A Royal Birth
by RevSue
Summary: Joseph&Clarisse. Princess Mia plans a special Valentine's celebration in Genovia for her first year as the Crown Princess.


A Royal Birth

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters since Princess Diaries 1 & 2, and its characters are the property of Disney, Buena Vista, and Meg Cabot. I make no money from this work of fiction._

Valentine's Day in the palace in Genovia used to be much more of a celebration than it had been for the past two years. King Rupert (may he rest in peace!) had had a stroke in early February two years previously, and Queen Clarisse had had to assume many of his duties since the Crown Prince, Philippe, had been involved in a serious accident only a month before his father's illness. King Rupert's passing in the fall had been sad, but expected. Unfortunately, Prince Philippe had still not been in any condition to assume the throne, so the queen had had to continue ruling. Then, last February third, Prince Philippe had passed away as well, never having fully recovered from his accident.

Subsequently, the queen and her senior advisors had travelled to the United States and had returned triumphantly with the news that Prince Philippe's daughter had agreed to be known as Princess Amelia, heiress to the throne of Genovia. Since the girl was but sixteen, Queen Clarisse was to continue in her capacity as head of state until the princess was twenty-one. At that time, with Parliament's approval, she would be crowned queen.

Now, in spite of the merriment over the Christmas holidays in the castle in the mountains, January in Pyrus was rather dreary. Princess Mia had returned to the United States with her mother. It had rained more than usual. The queen's Head of Security, Joseph, had been hospitalized with a knee injury which had necessitated surgery at the start of the new year. Only now, the beginning of February, was Joseph moving around the palace without the use of even a cane, although the doctors had all predicted that he would be using a walker at least until Easter. Joseph had taken advantage of his enforced inactivity by researching and installing a new monitoring system in the palace with wireless microphones and earphones for all the security staff and the queen's personal assistant, Charlotte.

Today, the day after the first anniversary of Philippe's death, Clarisse pushed open the door of the royal nursery and cautiously stepped inside. She had informed Charlotte that she merely wanted to assess the suite for Princess Mia's use in the future, and that she would be back in the office in less than an hour. Charlotte's eyes had met Joseph's and he had nodded imperceptibly, and Clarisse had known that her every moment would be monitored by the new security cameras. Still, she would be alone with her thoughts, and no one would be trying to talk with her, so Clarisse had been willing to be watched from afar.

Clarisse's caution was not because of anything physical that might be in the room, but rather because of a faint wariness of the bittersweet encounter she expected with ghosts of the past. It was here that memories of a happier time with her sons always assailed her when she braved her emotions and entered the nursery. Few in Genovia would have suspected the fierce love the eminently proper, oft-perceived coldly correct Queen Clarisse had had for her young sons. Fewer still knew of the frowned-upon moments stolen from disapproving nurses and tutors to play with her beloved boys or sing with them or read to them. Even her husband, the stern but kind King Rupert, had expressed mild disapproval over the practice. Queens simply did not spend any amount of time in the nursery seeing to the upbringing of their children.

Now, Clarisse walked slowly around the room, recollections flooding her mind. She trailed her fingers over the dusty space ship models and telescope by the bay window. She looked up at the ceiling Pierre and Philippe had insisted on painting dark blue dotted with stars and planets in their proper constellations. Watercolour and pencil crayon pictures of rainbows and northern lights graced the walls which were also lined with books. The boys had grown so fast. Regret stabbed at her. Childhood had lasted such a short time. It seemed as though she had barely had time to enjoy the boys before they had relinquished the trappings of children altogether, moved into their own rooms, then grew away from her as they enthusiastically embraced new responsibilities and adulthood. Valentine's Day had been one of the holidays the boys had celebrated wholeheartedly, unlike most of the rest of the country or of Europe. Clarisse wondered if their love of 'Cupid's Day' had come from her frequent readings of the myth about Cupid and Psyche ... one of their favourite stories.

Then a knock came at the door, and Charlotte poked her head in. "Your Majesty?"

Pulling herself back from the past with great effort, Clarisse turned to her assistant. "Yes, Charlotte?"

"Princess Mia is on the telephone. She wishes to speak with you ... and Joseph and I. I've taken the liberty of putting the call on the speaker-phone in your office."

"Very well," Clarisse swept out of the nursery without a backward glance. She would just have to deal with Mia's future suite at a later date. There was still time. In spite of how she had just been feeling about the passage of the years in her sons' lives, Clarisse still had a while before her grand-daughter would be assuming the responsibilities and duties that went along with the throne and crown of Genovia.

Sinking into her office chair, Clarisse acknowledged Joseph's presence with a quick glance, then she said, "Hello, Mia."

"Grandma! Charlotte DID find you! Good. Listen, I was wondering if it would be okay to start something there ... I need Charlotte and Joseph to make sure it works, though."

"Start something?"

"Yeah. We're doing it at school, and it's a GREAT idea ... I think you should do it in the palace for the week before Valentine's Day, and end with a party on Valentine's Day."

"What IS the idea, Mia?" Clarisse asked patiently.

"Have a Spirit Week, or Secret Friend's Week! I've got the list of everyone who works at the palace that Charlotte gave me over the holidays there ... and it's pretty well even for male and female. So I've matched everyone with a 'secret friend'. They aren't in pairs, of course, because then you'd KNOW who your secret friend is. What you all have to do is either send a note or a small gift EVERY DAY to your secret friend, AND to anyone else you want to send one to, but don't tell anyone the secret. It has to stay a secret until Valentine's Day. Then you have a garden party or open-air festival kind of thing later that afternoon and reveal yourselves to your secret friend by giving them their final gift openly. It'll be a BLAST! And the BEST thing is that Mom said I can come over for that weekend, if you agree, of course. So, what do you think?"

Clarisse blinked. Then she looked at Joseph and Charlotte, who also looked rather blank.

"Grandma? Joe? CHARLOTTE? Are you still there?" Mia asked, puzzled.

"Yes, Mia, we're here." Clarisse answered. Joseph and Charlotte murmured their responses as well.

"So, what do you think?" Mia asked again, her excitement obvious even over the phone. "Will you do it? I figure I can give Charlotte the list for all the women and Joe the list for all the men. You guys can tell everyone on your list who their secret friend is, but keep the lists hidden from the others ... and from each other! Then the fun starts next week on the seventh!"

"I'm willing, Princess," Joe finally said.

"I think it's a good idea, your Highness," Charlotte agreed softly. "I'll do whatever you tell me to do."

"Well, then, it appears to be settled," Clarisse said, briskly. "I assume my only responsibility is to plan the actual happenings on Valentine's Day?"

"With me," Mia laughed. "I want some say in it, too, please. And, of course, you have to think of what to give or write to your secret friend all week, Grandma."

"You mean, I will have to be in on that as well?" Clarisse was dismayed.

"Of course! EVERYONE in the palace! Even I'm going to do it, but I'll have to get other people to give out my presents until I get there. So yes, you and everyone else right down to the lowliest maid or page boy." Mia said.

"We don't have page boys," Clarisse said rather shortly. Her mind was already in a turmoil trying to decide what on earth she could do for seven full days of gifts or notes! "When do we find out who we have to do this for?"

"I'll email the lists to Charlotte and Joe now ... so whenever they're organized to tell, they can." Mia said. "And Grandma, NO PEEKING! Charlotte is the only one to see the list for the women, and Joe is the only one to see the list for the men! Okay?"

"Very well, Mia. I DO wish you were going to be here to explain this ... this nonsense to Parliament, though!"

"Parliament has nothing to do with this! It's a palace thing, Grandma. And you have to hire someone else to do all the work on Valentine's Day, because the party is for all the palace people."

"We have to WHAT?" Clarisse was floored. Plan a party and expect outsiders to see to all the details? Impossible! Especially when they only had ten days to do it!

"I can arrange that, your Majesty, your Highness," Charlotte spoke up bravely. "We can do all the planning beforehand, and just hire people to carry out our plans."

"Thanks, Charlotte, I knew I could count on you!" Mia said gratefully. "Well, gotta go! Thanks, Grandma! Thanks, Joe and Charlotte! And remember, guys, keep it secret! I'll talk to you in a couple of days. Bye!"

Although Clarisse had been rather lukewarm in her reception to Mia's suggestion, it turned out to have been a wonderful idea to combat the grey February atmosphere of the palace population. Clarisse had been thankful to hear later that day from Charlotte that Joseph was to be the recipient of Clarisse's offerings. At least she knew a little bit about him and his tastes in candy and books. She had braved the nursery again, this time with no thoughts of the ghosts there, and rummaged for pencil crayons and regular paper which wasn't embossed with the crown's insignia. Her notes would not be distinguishable from those of anyone else in the palace!

Throughout the first day of that special week before Valentine's Day, everyone in the palace was laughing and smiling and talking with one another. Little notes and small candies appeared mysteriously for everyone. Clarisse was astounded at the offerings she, herself, received; from flowers to chocolates to hastily scrawled notes to a leaflet explaining in detail the meanings of different colours of roses and the arrangements they came in. Attached to the leaflet was a brief typed note which said, "_Keep this handy for future reference, your Majesty. From your Secret Friend."_

By the end of the second day, Clarisse was feeling like a schoolgirl again as she tried to figure out who her secret friend could be. She had received an elaborate Valentine with the words _'Love is a power that cannot be dictated. You do not FIND love. Rather, love finds you. From your Secret Friend_' carefully and painstakingly printed on the inside. Another fun worry was how she could put a chocolate pear in Joseph's path without him figuring out who HIS secret friend was. She had added a printed note saying, _"People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did ... but people will never forget how you made them feel. Thank you for everything you have made me feel. Your Secret Friend."_ Joseph had made her feel so very special over the years, most particularly in San Francisco. Forcing herself to postpone her remembrances of that sometimes wonderful, sometimes frantic time, Clarisse stayed up much later than usual that night, labouring over notes to everyone in the palace, thanking them for being who they were and mentioning something special about each one. She told herself there was no reason to feel guilty for making Charlotte's a little longer, and for taking special care over Joseph's. She knew he would know immediately it was from her, but she didn't care. She would give him something else from his secret friend.

The third day, Clarisse prevailed upon Joseph to take her and Charlotte shopping, saying she needed inspiration and a replenishing of her supply of gifts and notepaper. Clarisse found a small box of chocolate-covered strawberries which she gave to Joseph that day as his 'secret friend' present, getting Charlotte to drop it off in the security office. She also found a small, pear-shaped pillow which made her grin to see and which she promptly bought as well, feeling very daring since the writing on it said _"soft and sweet, squeezing is encouraged and it won't damage the fruit."_ Unsure whether or not she would have the nerve to give it to Joseph, knowing that on Valentine's Day she had to reveal herself to him, she decided she could keep it herself if necessary.

That night, sitting in her room looking over all she had received throughout the day including a chocolate heart from her secret friend, she picked up a present she had received only an hour previously. It was a small music box with two dancing figures on top. She knew Joseph had been the donor, even though Priscilla had been the one to actually physically hand it to her, since, when Clarisse wound it up, the music that came out while the figures on top turned slowly was the same music they had danced to in San Francisco the day of Mia's first dance lesson. This gift had no card on it, so she was sure he was NOT her secret friend, but still ... That night, she went to sleep with the music of the 'Wango' still echoing in her ears and through her dreams.

Awakening well-rested and with a deep sense of joy and peace, Clarisse discovered a small bouquet of pink sweetheart roses on her dressing table, from her secret friend. Rummaging for the leaflet she had been given, she smiled when she read that sweetheart roses symbolize just what their name implies, that pink roses in general symbolize grace and gentility; deep pink roses stand for gratitude and appreciation and light pink conveys admiration. She lightly touched the petals of one of the light pink roses, and breathed in the sweet fragrance of a deep pink rose, then began her day by meeting with the housekeeper and the two head cooks to discuss preparations for the Valentine's Day when others would be taking over the kitchen and household for a few hours.

That fourth evening brought Clarisse, among other gifts, a paragraph obviously cut out of a magazine which said, "_Marriage is not a ritual or an end. It is a long, intricate, intimate dance together and nothing matters more than your own sense of balance and your choice of partner. – Amy Bloom._" She received the note with her bedtime tea tray.

Looking over at the music box by her bed, Clarisse ran a finger over the words of the note, and thought about Joseph. Could the note be from him? He wasn't ... he COULDN'T possibly be hinting at anything with the music box ... could he? And if he WAS, what should her reaction be, as a queen? As a woman, would her reaction be any different? COULD it be? What would it be like to have a ... relationship, for want of a better word ... with Joseph? Her breath caught at the sudden thrill which ran through her body.

What would marriage to Joseph be like? A long, intricate, intimate dance together? Clarisse's cheeks heated at the thought. Her marriage to Rupert had been a ritual, there was no question about that. They had been best friends, mostly because, as king and queen, they had been told they had no equals in Genovia. They only had each other. Their fondness and friendship had grown, but fondness and friendship were not the same as passion and love. It was only now that Clarisse was beginning to realize what she had missed all those years with Rupert. Now, when Joseph's light touch on her back could melt the bones in her legs or his impersonal kiss on her hand could make her long to feel his lips elsewhere on her body, she found herself dreaming of the passionate love Cupid supposedly brought to lovers on Valentine's Day.

On the fifth morning, more sweetheart roses from her secret friend were found on her dressing table. These ones, a deep burgundy colour, supposedly meant 'unconscious beauty'. Clarisse eyed herself in the mirror, then smiled. No make up, hair a mess, freckles and all, and she was supposedly a beauty? Yes, unconscious beauty was right. Maybe when she was properly dressed and made up she could be termed a beauty, but in her books, needing to be worked on before assessment did not constitute true beauty! No, Clarisse did not have a vain bone in her body, and really did not think of herself as beautiful. Again she caught sight of the music box by her bed. Winding it up, she sat down and listened to it with her eyes closed, remembering how she had felt in Joseph's arms that afternoon in San Francisco. She had felt ... beautiful. Truly beautiful.

Following a couple of hours in the office with Charlotte, Clarisse submitted to being dressed in her riding habit and headed out to review the royal guard on horseback. As she settled in the sidesaddle and accepted the reins from the groom, Clarisse reflected that this was one more item Mia needed to learn in her princess lessons. She wondered if her grand-daughter had ever ridden a horse ... side-saddle or otherwise. When she, herself, had first become queen, she could only ride astride, but an enterprising groom had come up with a novel idea, hanging a wooden leg on the saddle and instructing Clarisse how to hide one leg underneath her long skirt. She had ridden that way for years when reviewing the royal guard, until Rupert had finally convinced her that it would probably be a lot safer to learn to ride side-saddle. Rupert and the boys had shared many a hilarious afternoon with her as they ALL learned how to ride with the different saddle. Riding slowly down between the rows of guards, Clarisse's lips curved up in a lovely but sad smile as she remembered the past, and only the ever-vigilant Joseph noticed that her eyes were shadowed with introspection and she really wasn't reviewing the troops with her usual keen attention to detail.

This was the day Clarisse chose a small, hand-carved wooden spoon to give to Joseph from his secret friend. It was a Welsh love spoon from a collection she had had since she was a girl. This love spoon had a heart-shaped bowl, an unattached ball in a cage-like rectangle for the handle, and a single heart on top with a small key dangling in its centre. Unsure of many of the symbols of the carved spoons, Clarisse knew the key stood for security and safety, thus she felt it was perfect for Joseph. She suspected that, being in the heart, it probably also meant something along the lines of having the key to the heart, but decided to give it to him anyway. Quickly she wrapped it up and labelled it before she could change her mind.

Later, when Charlotte stepped out of the office after printing a page she claimed she needed to give to Shades, Clarisse happened to see, on the computer monitor, that Charlotte had been looking up a website detailing the various symbols of love spoons. Walking over, Clarisse studied the screen intently. Oh, my! What had she given Joseph? Her heart began to race. Supposedly the ball and cage represented the statement 'I will protect your love' or 'Your love is safe with me'. The heart-shaped bowl said, 'We will have a life full of love'. Because there was only one heart on the top, that meant 'May I court you?' or 'My heart is yours', and she had been correct about the key, which represented security as well as meaning 'You have the key to my heart'. Then Clarisse realized that Charlotte must have known she had given the spoon to Joseph, and she wondered if the printed page for Shades had been these symbols ... and if Joseph would be shown the meanings, too. Once again, Clarisse was frustrated by her inability to understand the computer, as she was certain the answer to her first question could be found somewhere on the screen. If she touched the keyboard, however, she was sure to cause something to go wrong with the machine!

Not sure if she subconsciously had MEANT to say anything quite so ... obvious, Clarisse was a little uncomfortable around Joseph that day. When he found out that she had been the one to give him the small gifts, would he assume that she had known all the spoon meant? Would he, therefore, expect her to, well, to be open to a ... relationship? WAS she open to a romantic relationship with him? She was not even sure of her own name anymore, let alone the possibility of romance in this stage of her life! Yet that night, Clarisse fell asleep again listening to her music box, and she dreamt of a certain man in black offering her his heart and taking hers in return.

The day before Valentine's Day, Clarisse's bouquet of sweetheart roses were yellow and orange, signifying enthusiasm, desire, joy, gladness ... and 'try to care', the last being emphasized in the note from her secret friend. Clarisse frowned momentarily. Was her secret friend suggesting that she was uncaring when it came to others in the palace? Or ... or could it possible have a more personal meaning? Her eyes wandered over to her beloved music box. She cared. She cared very much for Joseph, she admitted to herself at last, then wondered why she was not shocked at the admission.

Pensively, she wandered downstairs for breakfast. There she found a chocolate frog sitting by her plate with a note, "Kiss me ... I'm your Secret Friend." Looking closely at the chocolate, she realized a crown was on the frog's head, and with some amusement she realized it was the Frog Prince who had turned into a human prince when kissed.

That day, during the weekly audience in the throne room, Clarisse heard about the probable and highly unusual northern lights display which was forecast for Valentine's Day night. Everyone in the palace was excited at the prospect, and discussed shutting off most of the lights in the palace and spilling out into the terraces and gardens when the northern lights appeared.

Just before the evening meal that night, Clarisse defiantly smuggled the pear-shaped pillow she had bought a few days before into Joseph's room, slipping it under the covers of his bed. Had anyone stopped her, she would merely have told them she was delivering a message. Turning to leave, Clarisse came face to face with the man himself.

"Oh! Oh, Joseph, I ... umm ... I was just ..." she stammered, turning red. Then she stopped herself and straightened to her full height. "There you are! I've been looking for you, Joseph. Weren't we supposed to meet at 3:00 p.m. today?"

He smiled faintly. "No, your Majesty," he corrected her, mildly. "That meeting is scheduled for tomorrow morning."

"Very well. Until then," and she swept out regally, knowing he was watching her as she made her way down the corridor. He was sure to guess who his secret friend was now, but it didn't matter much, since in another twenty-four hours they were to reveal themselves to each other anyway!

Mia arrived late that night, and, exhausted after her flight from America, fell asleep on Clarisse's sofa while they were catching up on news. Clarisse watched her for a moment, her eyes full of love, then she sighed and stood up. The sofa was comfortable enough, she supposed, so Mia could just sleep there for the night. Covering her grand-daughter with an afghan, she quietly went into her own room and went to bed, dreaming of coloured lights dancing in the skies as she and Joseph had danced in San Francisco.

On Valentine's Day, Clarisse awoke to find her tea at her bedside along with a copy of the Genovian Free Press and a printed note which said, _"Some people believe that the first man's name you read in the paper or hear will be the name of the man you will marry." _ Unable to help it, Clarisse rolled her eyes. The inanities people believed! Then she picked up the paper, and found it was a back copy. Joseph's picture stared solemnly out at her under the bold headline, "JOSEPH ELIZONDO TAKES OVER AS HEAD OF ROYAL SECURITY". Her breath caught for a moment. If the words on the note were true, she would marry ... Joseph? SHE would marry again? Nonsense! She had no intentions of EVER marrying again ... but if she WERE to think of it ... yes, Joseph would definitely ... Clarisse dropped the paper. What was she thinking? Marriage was out of the question!

A knock came at the door just then, and Charlotte poked her head in, saying, "Joseph would like to meet with you in an hour to go over security arrangements for this afternoon, your Majesty, and the temporary footmen and maids, headed by a Mrs. Cout, will be here by noon."

"Thank you, Charlotte. Oh, Charlotte," Clarisse called her aide back for a moment. "We are going to be without a senior housekeeper in three years, isn't that right?"

"I believe so, your Majesty."

"Perhaps, if today works out, this Mrs. Cout might be a possibility to keep in mind for a replacement?"

"I'll make a note of it, your Majesty."

"Thank you." When Charlotte had gone, Clarisse looked once more at the printed note she had received that day. _"Some people believe that the first man's name you read in the paper or hear will be the name of the man you will marry." _Running the conversation with Charlotte over in her mind, Clarisse realized that yes, Charlotte HAD said Joseph's name first! She began to chuckle. It had to have been planned. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if it had been planned by Joseph, himself!

Mia bounced into Clarisse's room at that moment. "Joseph said I was to ask you if I can meet with you both to talk about today's stuff for his team. Is that okay, Grandma?"

"That's fine. Oh, Mia, I'm sorry about having you sleep on the sofa last night. I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable." Clarisse was determined not to even THINK about the note again. She did not care that Mia had used Joseph's name first. It meant nothing to her, and was merely ... nonsense! She crushed the note in her hand and dropped it into the wastebasket.

"No, it was fine, Grandma! Sorry I couldn't stay awake any longer. Hey, is it true that there are going to be fireworks tonight?"

"No." Clarisse said, shortly.

"What? I heard there was going to be something special in the sky, colours and everything!" Mia looked dismayed.

"MY understanding is that if there are no clouds, we might be able to see the northern lights tonight. Not fireworks. Something natural."

"Cool! I've never seen them, and pictures look great! What causes them again?"

Clarisse looked blank. "I, well, something to do with the atmosphere and magnets or sunspots or some such thing," she said, vaguely. "I remember the boys telling me about the lights when they were small, but we never have been able to see them this far south."

"Grandma, where'd you get this neat music box? I didn't see it before!" Mia had already lost interest in the northern lights, and she was winding up the music box. Her face lit up after the first few bars of music. "I remember that music! It's the Wango, isn't it? I bet Joe gave that to you, didn't he? I wish I could find one like this! I mean, it was the first dance he ever taught me!"

Clarisse forced herself to smile. "As a matter of fact, Mia, I am not certain WHO gave it to me. It was one of those anonymous gifts we've all been getting all week ... because of YOU! You have quite a few of them in your room, I believe."

"Okay, I'm going to see! Talk to you later, Grandma!" and Mia was gone.

Clarisse stood alone for a moment, wondering what she could possibly give Joseph today. Somehow her dreams last night, and the conversation about dancing with Mia just now had brought her feelings to the surface again. All the emotions she had experienced while dancing with Joseph privately that first day had grown the night of the Independence Day Ball when Joseph had been the one to find and deliver Mia to the Genovian Consulate. They had danced that night for the first time in view of all the other guests, and Clarisse had not worried in the slightest about anyone else's opinion. At first she had thought her primary emotion had been gratitude to Joseph, but mere gratitude couldn't have begun to explain the heat, the thrills, the tingles she had felt when, at the end of the evening, he had firmly taken her hand in his as they walked, kissing it when she had mutely questioned his presumption. She had melted at the look in his eyes, and had smiled at him, allowing him the privilege of holding her hand as they walked to her room.

Taking a deep breath, Clarisse seated herself at her desk, picked up her pen and began to write. _"Dearest Joseph, by now you will know that I am your secret friend. I just wanted to say that I have ALWAYS felt a deep, abiding friendship towards you. I also wanted to admit that, since we were in San Francisco last spring, I have felt that you wanted more from me and I wanted to give you more than mere friendship. I've been told that we don't find love, but instead, love finds us. On this Valentine's Day, it appears that love has found me, and, I pray, you as well. I never thought this would ever happen to me, and to be honest, I am rather aghast that it has occurred at this stage of my life. You know my situation. I am bound to Genovia by ties of duty and of love that cannot be broken. Nothing may come of this. You are under no obligation to return my feelings, and you certainly may not act on this knowledge, as I am sure you are aware. I just wanted you to know how I felt. It seems the spirits dancing in the aurora borealis are announcing the birth of a forbidden love this year here in the palace. May they also forecast great patience and understanding. Lovingly and forever yours, C._"

Folding it carefully, she put the letter in her pocket. Then, half-laughing at herself, she rummaged through the wastebasket to find the note from her secret friend. Smoothing it out, she placed it carefully in her drawer before walking out of her room.

The meeting with Joseph went well, and afterwards, Clarisse managed to slip her letter into the pocket of his jacket which he had put over the back of a chair. When he pulled on the jacket and left the room, she knew the letter would not fall into anyone else's hands, and she relaxed and prepared to enjoy herself with her grand-daughter. They had a merry lunch together, then went upstairs to dress.

In her room, Clarisse found her final gift from her secret friend. It was a corsage to wear that afternoon. A full-blown white rose was positioned over two red rosebuds. Checking her leaflet, Clarisse caught her breath. If she wasn't mistaken, this corsage had to be from Joseph. The combination of an open rose over two buds signified secrecy. The white rose was for true love, the red for passion. The white could also stand for silence, and "I am worthy of you" as well as "you're heavenly". Red also could mean respect and courage. She pondered the meaning of the corsage even as she pinned it to her shoulder. A secret love? Not friendship ... but LOVE?

When Clarisse and Mia arrived downstairs, Mrs. Cout and her crew of temporary workers had taken over the kitchens and were doing an excellent job. Once outside, with the music from the hired band drifting over the gardens, the two discovered that much of the talk was about the viewing of the Northern Lights that evening. The sky was clear, so there was no question now about the rare phenomenon occurring. Mia was thrilled at the thought, and discussed it endlessly with anyone who would talk with her. Clarisse stood quietly by and listened, watching her grand-daughter and remembering her sons at that age.

Then Clarisse felt a touch on her back. Looking around, she smiled at Joseph. "Hello," she said, softly.

"Hello," he replied, his eyes on hers. He took her hand and kissed it softly, then released it. "May we walk to the gazebo?"

"Oh ..." Clarisse looked around and saw that Mia was in a circle of people, Charlotte and Shades both near. Shades caught the queen's eye and nodded imperceptibly. Clarisse smiled again at Joseph. "Come. I have something to confess to you, I suppose."

"Not really. I knew you were my secret friend from the first day ... and it was reinforced with the gift of the love spoon which I recognized as being from your private collection."

"How did you know the first day?" Clarisse stopped walking in dismay.

"Your handwriting. I'd know it anywhere."

"But I printed the notes ... and used ..." she began.

"I know," he smiled, "you used the princes' paper and pencils."

"I'm sorry." Clarisse was crestfallen. She was supposed to have been a secret friend, and she hadn't even been able to keep this one small secret from Joseph! She began to walk slowly again, her head down.

"Don't be sorry," Joseph advised her, and his hand took hers again, bringing it to his lips much as he had done in San Francisco after the Independence Day Ball.

As she had that night, Clarisse smiled at him, and left her hand in his, tucking it among the folds of her skirt as they walked. No one appeared to be watching them, but she couldn't take any chances. Not with the von Trokens still looking for any excuse to wrest the throne from her.

"Did you guess that I was YOUR secret friend?" he asked next.

"I hoped ..." Clarisse confessed. "I wasn't sure, but I ... I hoped."

"Thank you for all your notes and letters. I treasure them." he said. "As I said before, I know the spoon is from your collection, and I hope you meant everything a love spoon implies. And as far as the letter you gave me today ..."

"Joseph, please," Her face began to flush faintly. "It was meant to ... to be secret. Saying anything out loud ..." her voice trailed off.

His fingers tightened on hers as they walked into the gazebo. "I understand, but I must say, Clarisse, that I wish to pursue this ...relationship ... at the first available opportunity."

Clarisse turned to face him and withdrew her hand with a sigh. "We can't HAVE a relationship any deeper than we have now," she said, sadly but firmly. "I'm truly sorry, Joseph."

"Never?"

"I ... Joseph, I am the queen. Mia will be crowned queen when it is appropriate, in four or five years, and then ..."

"Then I may approach you again?" His eagerness was palpable.

Clarisse smiled, her eyes soft. "I make no promises, Joseph," she warned him. "Nor should you. We have no idea who either of us may meet in the next few years."

"My mind will not change," he vowed, "nor my heart."

Putting her hand gently on his cheek, Clarisse nodded, then withdrew her fingers. Her heart and mind would be constant as well. Circumspectly, they sat on the wall closest to the gardens where others could now been seen walking and talking in pairs and small groups. Mia was laughing as she walked with Charlotte and Shades.

Then Clarisse turned to Joseph and said, "Thank you SO much for the music box, Joseph. I treasure it already for the memories it brings back every time I listen to it."

He smiled. "I had hoped you would accept it and enjoy it."

"Dancing with you that day was the first time I ..." her eyes dropped and she stopped talking as Mia broke away from the others and came running into the gazebo.

"Hey, Grandma! Hey, Joe! So, have you heard all the legends about Northern Lights?"

"Not all of them, your Highness," Joseph returned, as he rose and bowed slightly.

"Sit down, Joe! Take the weight off your knee! I'll sit over here." Mia waved him back and perched on the opposite wall. "Shades was just telling me that one of the legends claims that the lights are spirits which make people act totally out of character. Isn't that cool?"

"I hadn't heard that. It was my understanding that, in Labrador, for example, the people believe the ends of the land and sea are bounded by an immense abyss, over which a narrow and dangerous pathway leads to the heavenly regions. The sky is a great dome of hard material arched over the Earth and there is a hole in it through which the spirits pass to the true heavens. The spirits of those who have died a voluntary or violent death stay on the pathway, and they light torches to guide the feet of new arrivals. It's the torches we see, lighting the way for those who have died." Joseph recited, as if by rote.

Mia looked puzzled and Clarisse raised an eyebrow. Then Mia said, "You mean, if they kill themselves or are in an accident, like Dad, they are the spirits who make the lights? They're, like, not allowed into heaven, but have to hang around the pathway to help OTHERS in?"

"I don't believe it is that they are not allowed in, but that it is their privilege to help show the way. It is my understanding that by the lights, these spirits can be seen feasting and playing with a large walrus skull, so it does not appear to be a punishment."

"A WALRUS skull?" Both Clarisse and Mia gaped at him.

He shrugged. "This IS one of the legends from Labrador."

"Cool!" Mia breathed.

"Another legend, perhaps based on the Christian tradition of the Bethlehem star, is that the lights are a sign of a royal birth." Joseph added.

"Not me! Don't look at me!" Mia held up her hands defensively.

She looked over at her grandmother, who made a faint sound in her throat before saying, "I trust it will NOT be you, Mia! It IS just a legend, remember."

The garden party continued until twilight, when everyone was recalled into the ball room where tables had been set up and a feast laid out. They gathered and talked and laughed while they ate. Mia and Clarisse shared a table with Joseph, Shades, Charlotte, and three others. It was a fun meal for everyone. After a while, Mia whispered to Clarisse that she had paired Shades and Charlotte deliberately as secret friends. Clarisse eyed her grand-daughter speculatively, wondering just what the girl was up to.

"Charlotte and Shades? WHY?"

"I think they're cute together, don't you? It's so romantic. They seem to know a lot about each other!" Mia leaned on her hand and gazed dreamily at the two in question.

"They should," Clarisse said, dryly. "They're brother and sister." Mia looked dismayed, and Clarisse smiled again. "How about the others?" she asked, when the conversation was loud at the other end of the table. "Any more pairings I should know about?"

"Only the ones we already knew – the married ones and, well, you know," Mia shrugged. "Most of the others were given different people – they weren't paired. Tim, there," Mia indicated a security guard at the next table, "gave to your lady's maid, Priscilla, but she gave to someone else, who gave to someone else, and so on." Mia pouted slightly. "I wish you had told me before about Shades and Charlotte. I really thought they could be in love! Darn. Probably my other plans fell through, too. All that work for nothing!"

"It WAS a lot of work," Clarisse said, not wanting to ask which other plans her grand-daughter was talking about. She touched Mia's hand lightly, "but it was worth it. Thank you, Mia. It proved to be just the sort of occasion we needed this year in Genovia."

Mia beamed. "I'm SO glad, Grandma! I could tell you didn't want me to go home after Christmas. But I'll be back often ... and when I'm twenty-one, I'll be here always, and will call Genovia home! I promise."

"I'm looking forward to it," Clarisse said, sincerely.

Just then, there was a commotion near the windows. The room grew quiet, and the announcement was made that the Northern Lights were just becoming visible in the skies overhead. People moved outside onto the terrace and into the gardens to better see the unusual sight. The ballroom lights were turned off, as were the lights outdoors. Everyone looked up, and a collective gasp arose when they saw the shimmering white lights beginning to swirl across the sky, growing brighter first in one area, then another. The light seemed to grow and spread, turning a greenish colour as it quickly covered up the bright stars, until it looked as if a tablecloth were being shaken into place above them.

"Wow!" Mia breathed. "Hey, Grandma, can we go up on top of a tower or something? I kinda want to get closer, if possible."

Clarisse looked to Joseph who nodded. "There is the top of the large towers in the south east and west corners. The stairs to the southeast tower parapets are beginning to crumble, but the southwest ones are still passable. We could go up if you wished."

Accordingly, Clarisse, Mia, Joseph, Charlotte, Shades, Priscilla and Olivia made their way to the round flat roof on the top of one of the towers of the Genovian palace. The view of the sky now being unobstructed, the northern lights were truly a glorious vision. Clarisse shivered a bit and drew closer to Mia, putting her arms around her grand-daughter. She was very conscious of Joseph standing the correct two paces behind her. Then he was beside her, his hand resting intimately on the small of her back in the darkness. "Your Majesty?" he murmured. "You could move over to the parapet and hold on there. It would make it easier to keep your balance while you're looking up and around, and it is quite safe."

Nodding, Clarisse and Mia both moved to the parapet. Joseph went with them, his hand still burning through the back of Clarisse's dress. Shades and Charlotte were standing beside them, and in the silence, Clarisse noticed a strange noise which seemed to be coming from a long way away. Then she overheard Shades telling Charlotte that the whistling crackling noise they heard coming from the lights themselves was the voices of the spirits trying to communicate with the people of the Earth and they should always be answered in a very soft voice.

"So why aren't you whispering?" Charlotte asked him.

"I'm not an idiot!" Shades looked indignant.

Mia looked over them both at that point and said softly, "You don't have to be an idiot to respect someone else's beliefs, do you?"

Shades looked uncomfortable, and Charlotte tried to hide her grin. Then Shades said, "Well, your highness, it is ALSO said that young people are supposed to dance to the aurora."

"Cool!" Mia said. She turned in Clarisse's arms. "Can we dance, Grandma? The band is still here, isn't it? We can all dance outside! All the young people!"

"Well, that let's me out, I suppose," Clarisse smiled. "Certainly you may dance, if you wish. Charlotte ...?"

Before she could finish, Charlotte was saying, "I'll take care of it, your Majesty. Naturally you may stay for a dance ... I don't think Shades meant ..."

"No, that's quite all right. I'm rather tired. I believe I'll go up to my room. I can still watch the sky from my window for a while longer," Clarisse hugged Mia. "Good night, Mia. And once again, thank you so much for your efforts for this week, and for today."

Mia hugged her grandmother tightly. "Thank YOU for doing it, Grandma! And thank Charlotte for doing a lot of the work!"

"Oh, I didn't ..." Charlotte began.

"Of course you did, Charlotte," Clarisse smiled at her assistant. "You ALWAYS do. Thank you. And good night."

"Good night, your Majesty."

"Joseph?" Clarisse looked at him.

"I will see you to your room," he bowed slightly, a slight smile hovering. "My knee is still too new to risk dancing on it!"

"Of course. Good night, Mia."

"'Night, Grandma. Joe." Mia hardly looked as she followed Charlotte and the others in downstairs in search of the band members.

Joseph walked Clarisse through the deserted palace to her suite ... holding her hand as he had done the previous spring and again that afternoon. Clarisse tossed caution aside for a moment, and invited him in for some tea, which she knew would be waiting for her as it was every evening.

He accepted the invitation to enter, but said he really didn't like tea. He walked over to the window and looked out as Clarisse unpinned her corsage, put it in water then poured herself a cup of tea. "You'd see the northern lights better from in here with the lights off," Joseph commented.

"True." Clarisse put her cup on the table by the window and went back to shut the lights off. Then she rejoined him at the window, the tea forgotten as they looked at the splendid show in the heavens. "This is spectacular, isn't it?" she murmured. "I don't recall ever seeing Northern Lights cover so much of the sky ... and I've NEVER seen them in Genovia!"

"This whole week was spectacular. Thank you for agreeing to Mia's suggestion to celebrate Valentine's Day in this way, Clarisse." Joseph took her hand again.

"It was nothing." Clarisse was a little flustered. "It's my duty. Valentine's Day used to be a special day here in the palace, and ..." Tears were suddenly very close as she remembered how her sons had loved this day. Oh, how she missed Philippe ... and Pierre was usually so far away ...

Joseph kissed her hand, then continued holding it. "This year, I have the feeling that Valentine's Day has nothing to do with duty ... and everything to do with you. And me." Watching her, he turned her hand over, kissed the palm, then kissed his way to her wrist where the pulse beat steadily, but quickly. Clarisse trembled. Joseph said softly, "I would like to hold you." He felt her body tense at his words and sighed. "No, just hold you. For comfort, for compassion ... for contact. Not necessarily desire."

"I ... oh, very well ..." Her body was as stiff as his was, but she stepped closer when he released her hand, moving into his arms and sliding hers around his waist.

When they were close, her cheek resting against his as they leaned on the other's shoulder, they both sighed and their tension drained away. Clarisse closed her eyes to enjoy the moment thoroughly. For some strange reason, it felt right to be in each other's arms. No punch of lust, no molten fire, but rather a warmth, sweet, spreading and solid. Clarisse did not often let herself relax so completely, but this seemed so natural. The steady thudding of his heart against her lulled her. She nearly nuzzled his neck, surprised by the urge to rub her cheek against him and purr.

Her eyes flew open and she drew back just enough to look at him in the dimness from the bright northern lights outside. Joseph leaned closer to kiss her, waiting for her to stiffen or draw back. She did neither. An awareness of his intent was evident in her eyes and her bearing, but no rebuttal. His lips touched hers, gently testing her emotions. With their eyes open, they watched each other as if waiting for the other to move back or leap forward. Clarisse remained acquiescent in his arms. He felt her tremble, only once, as her eyes darkened and became smoky, but they remained open and on his.

Clarisse wanted to see him, needed to see him. She had to see who he was, had to try to understand what there was about this one man that made him capable of turning her entire being into mush. No one had ever done that before to her. She had been almost proud of her ability to resist or control temptation in the past. She had watched men and women around her fall prey to the torments of what they called love and had never been certain that the joys balanced those torments. Now, as Joseph deepened the kiss slowly and persuasively, she vaguely wondered what she might have missed by never having surrendered to such love.

"Clarisse ..." Joseph whispered her name, "Come with me ..."

She understood his intent. He wanted her to let go, to yield to him even as he yielded to her. Still, Joseph closed his eyes first. Then the soft, drowsy warmth his caress induced slid seamlessly into a numbing ache, an ache that was all pleasure, and Clarisse's eyes fluttered closed on a sigh. The kiss wasn't urgent and wasn't demanding, rather, it was devastating. His love flowed over her and into her so that she was covered and filled and surrounded by it. She couldn't think and couldn't resist. She had been prepared for need, yet instead he had given her tenderness. He had breached a defence she had taken for granted, and now nothing could defend her from passion wrapped so softly in sweetness. A dazed, throaty moan caught in her throat. For the first time in her memory, she could do nothing but feel. A bone-deep longing for him consumed her.

As his mouth slipped from hers at last, Clarisse sighed again, barely suppressing a whimper of dismay as she opened her eyes slowly to see him gazing hungrily at her. "Oh, Joseph ..." she breathed.

His hands smoothed over her back and shoulders, then down her arms to her hands and he stepped back. Before he could say anything, however, his eyes sharpened and his head tilted as if hearing something. Quickly he picked up her teacup and folded her hands around it before melting behind the curtain of her window. Still dazed, Clarisse said nothing, but she drew in a deep breath of understanding and willed her control back in place. Someone was coming.

Mia burst into Clarisse's room without knocking, then stood and looked around in dismay when she only saw her grandmother standing by the window, a cup of tea in her hand and her corsage already in water on the table nearby. Clarisse looked at her inquiringly. "You're alone?" Mia asked, stupidly.

"Precisely who did you expect to see with me?" Perfect eyebrows rose.

Sighing, Mia muttered, "She was right! I was wrong. I can't believe I was wrong. It's even VALENTINE'S day," and she left as unceremoniously as she had arrived.

Clarisse held her pose for a split second longer, then the cup in her hand began to tremble as she chuckled, wondering which 'she' Mia had meant.

Stepping out from behind the curtain where he had secreted himself, Joseph grinned himself and took the cold tea from her unresisting hand, putting it down safely on the table nearby. "How long do you think we will be able to keep our secret from her, your Majesty? My desire to woo you, I mean."

"For as long as it takes, Joseph, as long as it takes. From her and from everyone else. We have no other choice."

Glancing for a moment at the full blown white rose atop two red rose buds, the sign of his true love keeping his passion for her a secret while he respected her courage in acknowledging their love to herself as well as him, Joseph took Clarisse's hand and kissed it lingeringly, his eyes never leaving hers. Clarisse understood his silent message, and her poignant, answering smile warmed his aching heart. They would wait. They had no other choice. All they could do for now was dream of the day when they could ... finally ... be together. The aurora borealis had indeed signalled a royal birth ... the birth of the love conceived nine months earlier between a queen and the man who would be her knight.

The end


End file.
